The Democratic advocate. [volume] (Westminster, Md.) 1865-1972, 1887-11-19


fever She was barely strong enough to
be moved, when the doctor ordered her
here. The journey has brought on a re-
lapse, which she can't get over if she's to
be kept awake at night by that scraping-
| beg pardon, Sir, mean your fiddling."
Then, as did not speak, she added: ~
hope you won't take it amiss, Sir; I'm sure
l don't mean any disrespect to you
'Don't apologize" 1 answered; ~ am
glad to think you have so much considera-
tion for your mistress. 1t is quite rare
As to my 'scraping,' I'll see about it; but
I'll not make any rash promises"
When she had gone | called Simpson.
"Simpson," l said, ''you know how those
young ladies next door plague me with their
piano and singing?"
"Yes, Sir," was Simpsons ready reply;
"Im sure it's enough to plague any one; it
makes me hate the sound of music. Why,
my boy Bob, he make deal more tune
come out of jews harp, he do"
"My good Simpson" l said, ignoring her
last little fight of fancy, ''has it ever oc-
CURED to you to go and say what nuis-
ance we find this music, and that you wished
them to leave off playing, just for my sake,
you know?"
Goodness gracious, Sirl Whatever do
you mean ?" cried my housekeeper aghast.
"Why, shouldn't have the assurance to
do such thing. I'm sure / wish often
enough they'd shut up the pianny, but go
and ask 'enl to-la, Sir. | daren't do it.
Whatever made you ask me, Sir?"
Nothing particular, Simpson; nothing
particular" !"
CHAPTER II.
Every day, and all day long as worked
in my garden or sat and smoked under the
rose tree, used to hear Miss Daisy over
the wall chattering. 1t made no difference
to her whether or not she had a listener.
She talked to herself in default of any
other. By degrees l learned a good deal
of the family life of my new neighbors.
There was an old man who used to occupy
a little of his time as gardener and general
servant at Number Five. He and little
Daisy were great cronies. 1t was red
letter day for her when she had him to an
swer her questions. l happened to hear
the beginning of their friendship, She
had come into the garden without Janet,
and was evidently delighted to find com.
panion ready to her hand. She asked him
his name and where he lived at onoa.
"My name" he replied, Che was fond of
a joke, is Tom Lloyd, England is my ma
tion, Tower-lane is my dwelling place, and
Christ is my salvation
''Dear me !" said Daisy. "What funny
man you are 1 didn't know you were
saying poetry at first until you finished up
ike a hymn. What shall call you, Mr..
Lloyd or Tom p
"Just which you prefer, missy" he an
swered calamity.
"Then," she said, "Ill begin with saying
Mr. Lloyd, and when | know you better
I'll say Tom. My name is Daisy. You
ought to like that name COS you're gard
ener Do you like daisies p
'Some sorts, missy For instance, l like
daisies with curly hair, and pink checks,
and big brown eyes"
"But real daisies, Mr.. Lloyd, real dais-
les ?"
'They're well enough in their place, miss,
but it's hard to keep 'em in it. They're
rare nuisance on lawn"
"Ah, there we don't agree then, Mr.
Lloyd. l wouldn't care to have lawn
where there were no daisies. u
"All right, missy; then I'll leave all the
daisies that grow here, and you shall have
them to your hearts content-so there p
"Thank you," said Daisy, solemnly;
''and now, Mr.. Lloyd, want you to make
this garden very pretty as quickly as you
can; as pretty as the cross old mans next
door. can see his flowers when | go up
into Janet's room and look out of the win
dow; these are most bew'ful roses, and
lilies, and pinks, and all sorts. You must
put us some like that. Will you, Mr..
Lloyd2 My nanny has been ILL., but she
is getting well, and she will soon be able
to come out in the garden, and she is so
fond of flowers"
"Well, missy, we must see what can be
done, but them things cost sight o mon
ey, and take deal O time to grow.
"Do they? ?" said Daisy, obviously. "Do
you think the roses next door have taken
long time to grow so pretty 2"
dYes, missy, for sure they have"
HMore than a month ?"
"Yes, missy, many months and years
too."
''Dear, DEAR" said the child sadly, that's
a great pity. should like to have gard
en- like that cross old mans"
"Why do you call Mr. Graham a cross
Did man, missy ?" asked the gardener in
his turn.
"'Cos he is cross, said Daisy emphatic
ally, ''that's why"
"Well, don't know that he's crosser
than other folk. He's bit queer, but he
amt bad-hearted."
II call him cross" returned Daisy, still
more decidedly, ''very cross; he has scolded
me, and so he must be cross. Nothing
you can say will make Inc think he isn't"
do not know when l first began to be
aware how much interest | took in Daisy
and all that concerned her. At first l had
heard (willingly or unwillingly) all that she
said on her side of the wall. At last
found myself listening to her attentively
when she was within hearing, and for her
when she was not. IF for any reason she
passed whole day without coming into
the garden I missed her terribly. | was
at myself when l found myself
listening with pleasure to that shrill little
voice, whose first tones had filled me with
dread, when found that my last neighbor
nuisance had become my daily enjoyment.
Yet whenever she spoke of me OF of my
garden she always called me ''that cross
man next door"
When my Marshal Mel roses came out,
their soft buds swelling among the dark
slender leaves, she was in ecstasies. Her
continual cry to Janet, to the old gardener,
TO her dolls, and even to her ball was /:
sOh, do look at the cross mans roses, amt
they bew'ful, amt they 'licious ?"
One day l shipped one off so that it fell
IN their side of the wall, and called out
aIve cut you rose, Miss Daisy"
Her thanks came back directly:
"Thank you, cross man, thank you.
What lovely rose! How very good of
you p